Wise and Angelic
by gypsywoman1
Summary: Describing Castiel. DISCLAIMER//I do not own Supernatural.


**A/N:**** I already described Dean and Sam, now who's turn is it? Why, Castiel of course. :)**

I don't normally go to church, pray, tell my sins and beg for forgiveness. I'm not even sure I believe in a God, let alone _the_ God. However, here I sit in the pew, hands clasped, leaning forward and staring at the picture of Jesus by the cross in front where the Priest's podium stood tall and wood stained brown. A lot of men and maybe women had passed behind there, spoken speeches of great wisdom and knowledge that I found completely useless to me. There was a good and an evil, a Higher Power on both ends of the spirit stick and I didn't care to dwell on certain focal technicalities…my personal belief.

Sighing I asked myself, "What am I doing here?"

It didn't make sense, out of all my life, I had finally stepped into a building of such holy and architectural quality and suddenly I felt the urge to come in and take a seat. An urge, maybe I was coming to my marbles or maybe I was simply searching for guidance and this was the easiest form. What advice did I need though? That was the ultimatum.

The door creaked open from behind me, signaling like a bell over a glass diner entrance when a new customer arrived. 24/7 service, just have to have impeccable patience and amazing ability to remain quiet. Sunlight streamed through that one moment of opening and closing, a sound of flapping cloth as if this person were desperate for a meeting. What was the hurry? My attention turned towards the intruder of my alone time moment in this sanctified place, something to not hope for if it was someone I wound up knowing. They would tease about my sudden will of faith, but meeting the sight I didn't know them.

Good.

The man, yes man, good average male height, 6'0 on the dot, slowed his pacing and came to a stop, peering around the room, giving me time and leisurely appreciation of his appearance. Bottom, up. His shoes were gone past the well truth of shine to caked on dirt from previous adventures, work shoes, business man sensible. Travelling to the hem of pant that met everyday walking necessity, a line down the front, and wrinkles playing along the sides as if it had never been ironed in its life…lived in but yet in a confusing way not. Belt, old leather, black, with a gold buckle, looped holes made for it in the dress pants, slid through too many times to count.

A small hint of white under the navy suit jacket, the traditional button up shirt, a tinge of stain from unknown substance that even bleach couldn't get out; the studying of the light brown made me want to pull out my little speed clean pen and scribble all over it until it was removed. My neat freak side surfacing at the chance it yearned for day to day. Coming back to the man, I noticed his tie, loosened, askew, blue, plain and with no real definition of why he chose that tie or bought it in the first place. A different and new thing out of the normal.

Applicable lawyer, slave in the office, successful and religion based fit him to a T, what most of my friends or other women in the world looked for in one of the opposite sex even though they realized that they were dying hard for bad boys. _He_ could never be placed under that category of John Travolta, _Grease_ hunk, faded blue jeans, motor oil, leather car interior aroma and hair gel. If he tried I think I'd have to be there for an opinion on whether right or not in my assumption.

His neck led to a perfect jaw line, small, prominent and supple, not clean shaven but stubble was no doubt detectable---full beard out of the question. Lips; thin bottom and full top, the pink lining meeting skin and stubble showed an astounding sharp wide V just where the dip played under the nose. Petite held justice to those two features swimming in the middle of a smooth, sleek and creamy semi-tan complexion. Sideburns not too long but not too short, signifying his hairline, coming up and curving inward before curving out and up, coming across the forehead to give medium size space between eyebrows and soft, short, messed brown strands.

What was startling the most was the intensity of his eyes. Blue like his tie, rich and royal, a man dressing with detail in mindset of showing off what color really suited him best. So much held within those orbs, a determination, a blankness of not being able to understand but wanting to, not really completely human…a baby's curiousity and likeness of the world when they can venture around. An innocence, strong belief, and searching for someone or something lost and eager to be found contained and bottled up inside.

I sighed, intrigued and completely awestruck at this man; a fresh soul holding millennia or at least more than anyone could ever imagine or begin to comprehend. Head snapping at the audible echo of my enthralling and break taken observation, in that one connection of eye contact I knew that he was indeed here for me. What for? I didn't know him, or I didn't think I did. Did I meet him one day and accidentally forget his name or what he looked like? I don't think so, because after one experience of being in his presence I would've remembered.

Striding down the aisle, his beige trench coat trailed behind him in their own stream of wind like owl wings…angel wings…wings either way you pinpointed it. In a way I guess he was both. Wise and angelic…yes.

"Can I help you?" I asked as he halted at the end of the pew I had been on, standing when had been walking.

"Are you Morgan?"

His voice rough, not fitting, not at all, it should've been softer.

"I am."

"I have to ask you to come with me."

"Where? Why? Who are you?"

Brows furrowing he tilted his head to the side as if he didn't get asked those questions often or rather didn't answer them on a normal occasion.

"My name is Castiel. Your presence is required pertaining to high orders."

"From?"

"Heaven."

I _didn't_ normally go to church, pray, tell my sins and beg forgiveness. I _wasn't _sure I believed in a God, let alone _the_ God…however, here I _stand_ by hunters destined as vessels for two angels Lucifer and Michael…here I stand beside the marvelous Angel, Castiel.

**Author End Note:**** Thanks for reading and please review.**


End file.
